Two Of A Kind
by Flucy
Summary: When Sherlock is called to work on a case with another detective, he refuses, but as soon as the scruffy man with his long white lab coat strides through the door, he changes his mind. One-Shot


**Didn't feel like writing Divergent so I decided to make a Sherlock/Layton crossover. Doubt many people will read it but practice is always good. One-Shot. –Flucy**

Lestrade desperately tried to avoid eye contact with the imposing detective towering over him as he shrunk further into his seat, moving documents and folders on his desk, procrastinating. Sherlock could tell that he was hiding something. John had also figured it out – it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to notice how awkward and nervous Lestrade was acting.

"What is it?" Sherlock spat hurriedly. "I don't have all day."

"And neither do I," Lestrade reminded him. "I take it you've heard about the Jigsaw Piece Killings that have been happening around London recently?"

"Obviously."

"Well, uh, it's getting out of hand and we need your help," Lestrade admitted weakly. Sherlock remained indifferent.

"Again, obvious. I wouldn't be here otherwise. John could have made that deduction," he retorted.

"Uh, thank you?" John offered unsurely.

"That's quite alright, John," replied Sherlock, still staring at Lestrade, who was still frantically rearranging his desk.

"There's something else," Sherlock stated bluntly.

Lestrade hesitated. He opened his mouth then closed it again, pursing his lips, before nodding. "Yeah." He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

"Care to tell us what this 'something else' actually is?" John said bluntly, stalking over to Lestrade, who gulped but didn't say anything. John turned to face Sherlock. "I was asking you, too."

Sherlock ignored him and stared straight ahead, then clearing his throat, "no." John furrowed his brows in confusion of Sherlock's refusal to an unasked question.

Lestrade scoffed. "What d'you mean 'no'? You won't take the case?"

Sherlock groaned. "No! I _will_ take the case, but will not be working with an assistant other than John."

John's eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows at Lestrade, who stared determinedly at the floor.

"There's more," Sherlock said, crouching down in front of Lestrade to look at his face. "It's someone I haven't met."

Lestrade grimaced.

"Ooh, it's _two_ people I haven't met."

"Yep," Lestrade conceded. "Two detectives from another department rang up here asking for more cases and we had none to offer them so we let them help on this case."

"Look at it this way, Sherlock, two more people to humiliate whilst you solve the case in a day," John pointed out, causing Lestrade to roll his eyes. A rather interesting case had been ongoing for almost two months, a murder once every now and then, all with a very particular method of murder, resulting in Sherlock and John to be called over to New Scotland Yard to see what they could help with. However, much to Sherlock's disliking, another detective inspector and constable had also been put on the case to work with him.

"Nope. Not working with them."

"Sherlock you have to!" Lestrade exclaimed angrily. "Besides, there isn't much I can do about it now. They're already on their way over here."

Burying his head in his hands, Sherlock mumbled something incoherent before recomposing himself.

"My sincerest apologies, Gerrard-,"

"It's Greg."

Sherlock's nose wrinkled. "Greg," he corrected, "but we cannot take this case if we will be working on it with someone else."

"What?!" John and Lestrade blurted, earning an irritated eye roll from Sherlock.

"You heard me perfectly fine," Sherlock said, "John, come along, we're leaving."

Sherlock started towards the door, taking long strides across the width of the room. Lestrade gasped, quickly jumped to his feet and raced to the door, blocking the exit with his body, pressing his hands to either side of the door frame. Sherlock took a deep breath and closed his eyes, but still stopped where he was, John still on the other side of the room, watching with incredulity.

"Wait, no, Sherlock!" Lestrade cried at the tall man. "We need you on this case!"

"Well, you'll have to manage without me. Besides, you have these other two detectives on the case," Sherlock reasoned, trying to pry Lestrade's fingers from the frame. He grunted as Lestrade's grip on the door tightened and he grit his teeth.

Someone whistled from outside the office, knocking lightly on the door. "Do you two need some time alone?" A woman retorted, snorting lightly. Sherlock quickly stepped back and Lestrade slunk back into his office, joining John who was wisely stood by the desk looking through the case files. A relatively small brunette leaned against the door frame, adjusting her cap and straightening her deep green jacket.

Lestrade smiled at her and offered her his hand. "Ah, you must be D.C. Baker," he said, inviting her inside. She firmly shook his hand.

Detective Baker stepped into the room and folded her hands behind her back, looking around the room. "'Ello Lestrade. It ain't me you're 'ere for," she said bluntly. "Prof-uh, I mean, _Layton_ , will be 'ere in a couple of minutes. There was, eh, a… hold-up," she continued in her thick Yorkshire drawl.

Sherlock briefly looked the girl up and down, figuring out what he could from her. Just as he was about to say his deductions aloud, John threw a warning glance his way and subtly shook his head, and he managed to keep his mouth shut.

"What sort of hold-up?" Lestrade queried in an attempt to make conversation.

"I were-,"

"Was," Sherlock interrupted, John covering his face with his hand.

"What?" Detective Baker asked confusedly.

Sherlock sighed. "I _was_ not 'I were'."

She rolled her eyes. "Alright, well I _was_ 'bout to fetch Layton from 'is office – I'd normally 'ave been there but I had to go out - but as soon as I went in, he lobbed a mug at me and yelled 'bored!' so I told him to meet me 'ere instead."

Sherlock tilts his head to the side. "Does that happen often?"

"What? The mug or the anger?"

"Both."

Baker scratched the back of her neck uncomfortably, warily eying Lestrade. "Uh, he has this split personality thing," she explained and Sherlock took a step towards her. "And he, uh, he changes into a pretty different person altogether. He 'as a meek side and an, um, angrier, more threatenin' side. You get used to it eventually," she said with a shrug.

There was an awkward silence hanging in the air.

"Uh, that's Sherlock Holmes, and that is John Watson," Lestrade quickly introduced, gesturing at the two men individually.

"Nice to meet you."

Sherlock had managed to refrain from saying anything too awful in front of Detective Baker, and John was silently pleading that he stayed like this for the rest of the encounter in her presence. She continued to chat to Lestrade for a few minutes before a knock on the door startled everyone.

The door was pushed slightly ajar and a tall, spindly man slipped into the room. Scraggly hair of a dull purple shade was in a hastily tied ponytail and he wore a large, white laboratory coat with jeans and a striped jumper, much like one of John's.

"Lestrade?" The man asked, and Baker nodded towards Greg, who was back in his chair again. The man strode over to him, extending an arm.

"Ahh, yes, Detective Inspector Layton, was it?" Lestrade asked, briefly shaking the man's bony hand.

"Alfendi, please," the man insisted, before angling himself towards Baker. "And I trust you've met Lucy?"

"Yes, D.C. Baker, we're acquainted," Lestrade explained. Alfendi snorted and raised an eyebrow at Lucy.

"'D.C. Baker? Still on formalities, are we?" he smirked and Lucy scoffed.

"Oh, shut up," she retorted and he rolled his eyes, before landing his gaze on Sherlock and John. Sherlock picked casually at a cuticle, uninterested. Alfendi looked them over.

"Sherlock Holmes, John Watson," Lestrade repeated for Alfendi's benefit, introducing the two men to him.

"I'm not too sure how ex-military ends up working with a detective," Alfendi said coolly and Sherlock's gaze snapped up to him. John let out a heavy breath and muttered something, shutting his eyes.

"How did you know that?" Sherlock demanded and Alfendi quirked his head to the side.

"I don't do all the deduction stuff, I just trust my intuition," he murmured. "Regardless of that, haircut and stance says military, and that very faint tan line on your wrists says abroad but not relaxing. Just a guess."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and turned to Lestrade. "We'll take the case," he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Why the sudden change in heart?" Lestrade asked, grinning.

" _Because,_ Alfendi Layton isn't an idiot."

John scoffed loudly. "That's a compliment, take it and run."

"Are you going to be working on this case with us?" Lucy quipped from behind, stepping forwards.

"Yes, but he doesn't actually work here," remarked Alfendi, "and I'm curious as to why New Scotland Yard would consult an amateur."

John and Lestrade winced simultaneously and exchanged a nervous glance.

Sherlock snapped his fingers and pointed at a space in the middle of the room. "Lucy, here, _now_."

Lucy didn't budge. "Would you like to rephrase that?" She said patronizingly.

Sherlock took in a deep breath. "Lucy, would you please stand here?" He asked politely and Lucy wordlessly obliged as instructed.

"Sherlock this isn't necessary," John said sternly, rubbing his forehead.

"Just lay off her."

Sherlock ignored them. "Yorkshire accent, about twenty-two, left handed, non-smoker – boring, dull, _mundane_ stuff. When you entered the room, Miss Baker, the first thing you said was sarcastic; you're confident and slightly reckless, you put yourself in danger, often to sacrifice yourself to save others – sentiment. Always seeing the good in people. _Positive_. You happily moved for me when I asked kindly but flat-out refused when I was rude – clearly you don't get bossed around much. That says a lot about Alfendi, also, but about your childhood. I doubt you had older siblings or strict parents, in fact on the topic of parents, they broke up and you haven't seen them in… six years? Boring. Anyway, you have bad grammar which shows school wasn't your strong point – particularly not English and _pronunciation_ \- yet you ended up as a detective so you're clearly passionate about work you enjoy. Passionate, empathetic, sympathetic all qualities – ha, well, _downfalls_ – that you display. You don't have any form of long term relationship, possibly after being hurt in the past by someone. Long sleeves, I wouldn't be surprised if you were hiding something under them, scars from cutti-."

Sherlock's head is thrown to the side as Lucy's hand connects with his cheek, a large smack resounding across his face. He takes in a deep breath and clicks his jaw, turning to face the girl. She stands right in front of him, breathing heavily, red in the face and faint traces of tears in her eyes.

"How _dare_ you," she spat venomously, shaking her head, disgraced. John and Lestrade both watch worriedly, slightly apprehensive to intervene.

"Impressive," commented Alfendi, his hair dishevelled and crimson red, eyes burning with a more orange tint than usual.

"Oh, God, prof, not now," Lucy complained, eyebrows creasing.

"You weren't even half way done yet, were you? Just getting to the good part," smirked Alfendi cruelly, making his way towards Sherlock.

"Oh, you didn't need me to explain _that_ , Mr. Layton. You already knew most of it," Sherlock replied, beaming at the praise.

"Don't inflate his ego too much, Alfendi, it's bad for his health," John joked, not fully noticing Alfendi's drastic change in demeanour.

"John, stop talking," Lucy hissed urgently, throwing a glare in his direction.

John rolled his eyes. "Why? What difference does it make?"

"Just shut up!" Lucy pleaded desperately.

"No, seriously, I'm allowed to talk and I will," John defied.

"Be qui-," Lucy began.

"Listen to you two, yapping like dogs. Am I going to have to cut out your tongues to get you to shut up?" Alfendi roared and John recoiled, Lucy flinching but not nearly as badly as John did. Alfendi stalked over to Lucy and shoved himself in her face. She held her ground and unwisely stared him dead in the eye. "I wish I'd hit you with that mug," he snapped, biting his lip to refrain from grinning. "And don't think I didn't know all of that already."

Lucy blanched and tentatively took a step back. "You're being ridiculous," she remarked boldly, and Alfendi opened his mouth to say something before hunching over and burying his face in his hands.

"Lucy's," he starts weakly, then straightens up, recomposing himself. His hair returned to its deep purple colour and the flames in his eyes burned out. "Lucy, I'm so sorry."

Lucy playfully nudged him in the shoulder. "It's fine. The only person I have an issue with is Mr. Know-It-All over 'ere."

Sherlock furrowed his brow, not understanding, whilst John and Lestrade watched the whole scene play out from behind the desk, watching the strange encounter. Lucy was easy to forgive.

"A word of advice, John," Alfendi said calmly, "do as Lucy says. She's the only person that manages to put up with me."

John chuckled nervously. "Yeah, I'll remember that."

Alfendi smiled and turned back to Sherlock who watched interestedly.

"Dissociative identity disorder," Sherlock noted flatly and Lestrade shot him a look, yet said nothing.

Alfendi pursed his lips and nodded. "Yup."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "Why don't you take your meds?"

Alfendi shrugged. "Can't concentrate when I'm on them. Lucy gave up trying to make me take them about a year ago."

"It wer- _was_ ," Lucy corrected quickly, "a lost cause, anyway. Never gon' 'appen. Too stubborn for yer own bloody good, prof."

Snorting, Alfendi rolled his eyes. "So, Lestrade, quickly brief us on these killings. I heard some beautiful things about them. Truly magnificent from what I've heard."

Lestrade cringes.

"Yeah, he's sadistic like that," Lucy commented, earning a glare from the scruffy detective.

Lestrade cleared his throat. "Eh, well, six murders in total – so far. No connections, no MO, but all the victims had a jigsaw piece on their chest. Two murders irrelevant to the case were made to look like one of these jigsaw killings but the jigsaw pieces didn't fit.

"So it's almost like a puzzle?" John quipped.

"Pretty much."

Alfendi swore and Lucy tried to refrain from bursting into giggles, but didn't do very well.

"Button it, Baker," Alfendi warned and Lucy calmed down, taking shaking breaths.

A grin crept onto Sherlock's face. "Definitely taking this case."

 **Probably won't do anything like this again. Just fancied doing something a bit different to normal. Got bored of writing Divergent. Reviews welcome. -Flucy**


End file.
